


Promise Me You'll Never Go Away

by wintercreek



Category: Glee, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, First Time, M/M, Mutant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:31:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercreek/pseuds/wintercreek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt loves his boyfriend, and he's ready to take their relationship to the next level. First, though, he'll have to find out why Blaine's so skittish about getting physical ... and what other secrets he's been keeping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise Me You'll Never Go Away

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a prompt on the Glee Kink Meme; [Prompt and original fill are here](http://glee-kink-meme.livejournal.com/14588.html?thread=20114428#t20114428). Now expanded and cleaned up.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://were-duck.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**were_duck**](http://were-duck.dreamwidth.org/) for betaing and being awesome.  <3 Title from "My Number" by Tegan and Sara, which will ever be an X-Men song for me after Greensilver's [amazing vid](http://greensilver.dreamwidth.org/541173.html).

It's not that Kurt's complaining. Blaine is a dream of a boyfriend: respectful, loving, inclined to look at Kurt like he's something precious. They fit together, in everything from personalities to lives, Blaine occupying a chair at Friday night family dinners like he's always belonged there and taking Kurt to shows without ever having to ask if they like the same musicals or the same musicians. If Kurt sometimes wishes Blaine could be a little less stiff and formal with his Dad and Carole, it's not a big deal. It's teenage nerves around the boyfriend's parents, and it'll probably wear off in time.

Kurt's complaint, were he to have one, would be this: after a month of the slowest, gentlest introduction to physical affection he could ever have asked for, Kurt's ready for more. He's not dissatisfied with kissing Blaine, of course, and to his great surprise adding tongue to their kisses is far more exciting than disgusting. But Kurt's let his hand slip down Blaine's back while they make out, and he's let his fingers brush the curve where the swell of Blaine's ass begins, and that's as far as they've gone. No intentional touching below the belt, and no removal of shirts, and only the tiniest bit of grinding before Blaine pulls away, breathing hard and smiling apologetically. Surely it should be obvious that he doesn't need to hold back for Kurt's sake when it's _Kurt_ trying to move them further along.

But Blaine never wants to talk about it, never wants to do anything but sit, side-by-side and not touching, until their pulses have slowed and the tingle Kurt's coming to love is gone from their skin. At least, Kurt knows _his_ pulse slows, and he's losing the tingle faster and faster each time Blaine pulls away.

It's time, Kurt thinks, for a talk. It may be hideously embarrassing, but it will work out for the best in the end. They have a good track record for talking things out, and besides, anything will be better than Kurt feeling himself cast in the role of lecherous boyfriend. They'll spell out their boundaries, and if it's Blaine who now wants to take it slow, then Kurt is just fine with that. Will be just fine with that.

He only sees Blaine on the weekends – Dalton's accelerated learning program is incredibly demanding, and between that and the Warblers Blaine can't often spare the time to leave campus during the week. They talk on the phone as often as they can, and sometimes they Skype. Tonight, Kurt decides, he'll lay the groundwork. It's Tuesday, which gives Blaine plenty of advance notice for the addition of a Saturday coffee date to their standing Friday night plans. They can't talk in the Hudson-Hummel house, lest Kurt's dad overhear them and ban Blaine for life, but they can excuse themselves to the Lima Bean, get coffee for verisimilitude and because it's _coffee,_ hello, and then Kurt will take Blaine for a walk in a deserted park and they'll discuss sex. Calmly, maturely, like a couple who are ready to go further than making out. Or like a couple who will calmly, maturely decide to wait, in a mutually respectful way.

That night on the phone, as he's enumerating all of Blaine's best features and their effects on him, picturing Blaine squirming with awkward delight, Kurt asks casually, "Would you mind if we switched to Skype? I want to see you."

Blaine sucks in a breath through his teeth. "I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you."

"It's not all the same to me," Kurt says, miffed. How is he supposed to nudge Blaine toward greater comfort with the idea of getting physical if they can't even make technologically-assisted eye contact? "Why not? Is there something wrong with your computer?"

"No, no, it's just—" Blaine laughs; it sounds forced. "My room's a mess."

There's an awkward pause in which Kurt wonders how to get the conversation back on track. He's opening his mouth when Blaine speaks.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, Wes just came home. I should go—" Blaine says, and Kurt hears Blaine's roommate calling something before the sound goes muffled.

When Blaine comes back, he says, "I'll call you tomorrow, okay, Kurt?"

"Okay," Kurt sighs, disappointed. "Have a good night."

"You too," Blaine answers. His voice is quiet and affectionate, and Kurt holds on to those things as he hits the button to end their call.

He turns to his computer, pulling up the websites he's been using to try and learn what's going on at Dalton. If he can figure out why they only take certain students, maybe he can understand what keeps making Blaine pull away.

-x-

Friday night dinner is awkward, enough so that Carole pulls Kurt aside in the kitchen and asks Kurt if they've had a fight.

"No," Kurt tells her. "Just ... not enough time together, lately. We're going out for coffee tomorrow so we can reconnect."

"Good," she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I like him, Kurt. I hope you two can work out whatever's going on."

Kurt smiles. "Me too."

He's restless all morning on Saturday, starting homework and tailoring and craft projects and abandoning them all. He's only marking time until two this afternoon. At 1:15 he gives in and climbs in the car. Kurt's painfully early to the Lima Bean.

So is Blaine. He's already sitting at a table when Kurt walks in. Well. That's probably a good sign. Unless it's a terrible one, and he's planning to break up with Kurt.

Kurt hurries over. "Hi," he says inanely.

"Hi," Blaine answers. "Look there's something we should talk about."

"I have something for us to discuss, too," Kurt tells him, affecting an air of confidence. "Shall we get our coffee and take it to the park?"

Blaine looks relieved. "Sure."

Kurt isn't quite ready to raise his subject, so he trails Blaine across the street and down the block, their coffees steaming in the crisp, late fall air. When they're finally seated on a bench – Kurt spares a thought to be grateful for their pea coats, protecting their legs from the cold wood – he turns to Blaine. "Would you like to start, or shall I?"

"I will." Blaine takes a deep breath. "I need to tell you why I go to Dalton."

Kurt is not expecting that. He puts on his best encouraging face and nods at Blaine. He's wondered quite a bit what goes on at Dalton: Blaine has discouraged him from visiting, after his first foray as a spy, and the curriculum is extremely demanding if Blaine's lack of free time is anything to go by. Something strange clearly goes on there. Two weekends ago Blaine had turned up with large bruises, almost like he'd been falling from a height repeatedly. Kurt does not believe that it was just gym class.

"I was ... fifteen. I had just come out to my parents, and they didn't take it very well, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been." Blaine looks down. "I thought maybe if they saw me being a normal teenager, it would be easier for them to accept me being gay. So I asked out this guy, Kyle, the other boy who was out at my old school, and we went to the Sadie Hawkins dance." He pauses.

Kurt reaches over and takes Blaine's free hand. He can feel the fine tremble under his fingers, Blaine's arm vibrating with tension or nerves. Kurt squeezes Blaine's hand, just once, and Blaine squeezes back and does not let go.

"We didn't get any trouble from my parents, and his parents even took pictures of us like any other couple. I wanted Kyle's mom to email them to my mom, so she'd see—" Blaine breaks off. "Anyway, after the dance we were waiting outside for Kyle's dad to pick us up, and I thought, 'Hey, it's kind of dark and private out here, no one's around, what the heck?' So I kissed him."

When Blaine doesn't continue, Kurt says quietly, "Okay. I'm not mad that you kissed someone before me, if that's what you're worried about right now. I know I'm not your first everything."

Blaine shakes his head. "No, it's not that. I just— I have to tell you something, Kurt, and I'm worried about how you'll take it." He bites his lip.

"Hey," Kurt breathes. "Hey. There's nothing you can tell me that could make me stop loving you, okay?" He closes his eyes, just for a moment; he loves Blaine, but he'd meant to make a bigger deal of saying it for the first time. Blaine doesn't seem to have noticed the significance, though.

"It made my parents stop loving me," Blaine whispers. "That's why I board at Dalton, even over the holidays. I don't have a family anymore."

Kurt waits.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Blaine says, "When I kissed Kyle, it was ... amazing. I felt this surge of energy, of power, like I could do anything. Like I could _fly_. And when I opened my eyes, we were."

"Wait, you were what?" Kurt asks, frowning.

Blaine squares his shoulders. "We were flying. Kyle and I. I'm a mutant, Kurt. I— I'm telekinetic. That means I can—"

"You can move things with your mind," Kurt says consideringly. He's heard about skills like this – more than rumors on the internet, now that Secretary McCoy is speaking out about mutant abilities. He's talked about them with his friends, playing out rounds of What If. "Not just things. People. Yourself." He cocks his head at Blaine. "Isn't that rare, being able to move yourself?"

" _That's_ your response?" Blaine gapes at him. "You want to know whether my powers are rare."

Kurt gives him a sheepish grin. "It seemed more polite than asking if you could make me fly around like Mary Martin, but if you'd rather I be selfish about it, I can start making notes for our _Peter Pan_ revival."

"I don't know if I can make you fly on command. My powers aren't always predictable. I think that's why my parents disowned me. These guys snuck up on us, Kyle and me. I guess they thought being gay was something that deserved an ass-kicking, and being a mutant was something that deserved an ass-kicking, and when they saw us flying and kissing they decided to deliver on both those things." Blaine looks down at his hands. "I couldn't— I just wanted to push them away with my powers, but it didn't work. I couldn't do anything until after they'd hurt us. I heard something in my chest crack when one of them kicked me – they broke my rib – and then suddenly I could _do something_ but it was too late. Kyle and I wound up in the hospital."

Squeezing Blaine's hand again, Kurt leans closer. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Thanks," Blaine says quietly. He takes a drink of his coffee. "So that was when my parents kicked me out. They sent my stuff straight to Dalton. It's a special school for mutants. They said it was safer for everyone if I went there."

Kurt has no idea what to say about that. He can't fathom anything that would make his dad kick him out. His dad gets mad, sure, but he'd never disown Kurt. Even in their worst times, Kurt's known that. He blinks hard, not wanting to cry. This conversation is about Blaine.

"Um, there's more." Blaine stands up. "Come on, I don't want to talk about this out here." He looks around them, as though anti-mutant protesters may have sprung up behind their bench. Or maybe he's afraid of seeing someone who knows his parents.

"We can sit in my car," Kurt offers, glad to have something to contribute.

Blaine keeps his hold on Kurt's hand as they walk back to the Navigator. Their coffees are mostly cold now, and they discard them in the parking lot.

Kurt looks around them. "Is this private enough? Should we just sit in the back, or do you want to drive a few blocks to a quieter street?"

"Let's go somewhere else, please," Blaine answers. "We can just take your car and come back for mine later."

"Okay." Kurt drives them through the residential areas behind the park and stops in a cul-de-sac, on the curb between two houses. "I don't think we'll be disturbed here. Come on, let's get in back."

Blaine seems nervous as he follows Kurt. He's twisting his fingers together.

"So. Telekinesis." Kurt tilts his head and looks at Blaine. "There's more?"

"Yeah. Um. I'm not just telekinetic. I'm— I'm also a telepath. I can read people's minds, and project thoughts and memories and sensations. Not always on purpose." Blaine cringes. "I'm getting better at controlling it, I swear, but I know it's not something people like to be around. And Kurt, I promise, I _promise_ that I will do my best to stay out of your head, but I'm going to fuck up sometimes." He swallows.

There's no way for Kurt to know if Blaine's reading his mind right now, so he tries to think reassuring thoughts.

Blaine continues, "If you'll put up with that, I'll do anything for you. I'll learn how to project on purpose so I can make any fantasy you have feel like it's coming true. I'll let you do anything to me, and I can be anyone you want, or make you think you're anywhere. Or. Or I won't do any of that."

Kurt gapes at him.

"Oh God," Blaine groans. "I won't, I won't, I'll try _so_ hard to lock it down. Forget I said anything about your fantasies, that was creepy. I'm getting better, I am, and I can practice harder. It'll be just like dating a normal person, please just don't leave me." He buries his face in his hands.

Kurt huffs out a tiny noise of disbelief. "And to think I thought _you_ were going to try and break up with _me_."

Blaine looks up, shocked. "Wh— What? I would never break up with you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Okay," Kurt says levelly, scooting along the seat until he's pressed flush against Blaine's side. He puts an arm around Blaine's shoulders. "Here's what I think. You have had a raw deal if your parents disowned you for being special. For being gifted – isn't that the term for it? Do you know how often my dad and I have talked about telekinesis, and how useful it would be in the garage? I'm not saying you should be a mechanic," he adds hurriedly. "I know there are much more important things for people with your talents to do."

"This is surreal," Blaine says, sounding baffled. "You should be running away as fast as you can, and instead you're talking about how I could help out in your dad's garage."

Sitting up straighter, Kurt puts a hand on Blaine's chin and turns him to face Kurt. "Hey. Under no circumstances will I be running away from you. I don't know if you heard what I said earlier, but I _love you,_ Blaine Anderson, and I'll never want to leave you. I love all of you, including the strange things about you that have had me staying up _way_ too late doing research online. And although I did not know until recently that all of you included telekinesis and telepathy, I love those parts of you too."

Blaine blinks. "Oh."

"This would be the part when you say that you love me back," Kurt says quietly. "If you want to, I mean."

Suddenly Kurt's prone on the bench seat, Blaine on top of him. "I do, I do, I love you, Kurt Hummel," Blaine says, peppering kisses all over Kurt's face.

Kurt laughs. "We should have these hard conversations more often, if this is the aftermath!"

"Hey, there was something you wanted to talk about, too," Blaine says, sitting back.

"I was going to raise the topic of physical intimacy," Kurt tells him. He sees motion out of the corner of his eye; it's probably just someone walking by up the street. "I love making out with you, but I think I'm ready to do more. And suggesting that by letting my hands wander didn't seem to be getting the idea across. So I thought we should talk about it. What do you think? Are you ready to do more?"

Now Blaine laughs. "I _so_ am. But it'll be weird. My control of my powers ... isn't the best when I'm distracted by other things. Like being turned on."

Kurt looks briefly toward the front of the car, where the motion's still drawing his attention. When he sees what it is, he grins. "Are you turned on right now?"

"Yeah," Blaine admits, blushing.

"Thought so," Kurt says smugly. His car keys are hovering over the dashboard, and their scarves, previously lying discarded in the front seat, are tangled around each other in a mid-air lover's knot.

Blaine follows his gaze. "I can put it all back, I swear," he says.

"It's okay," Kurt tells him. He leans forward, into Blaine's personal space, closer and closer until they're pressed against the door of the car. Kurt kisses Blaine deeply, tongue sliding into Blaine's mouth. Blaine moans; the sound draws an answering noise from Kurt. He pulls back, nipping lightly at Blaine's lip as he does. "I like it," Kurt says.

"Mmm?" Blaine looks dazed.

"I like knowing what I do to you," Kurt elaborates. "I like seeing the effect. It's sexy."

Blaine shakes his head a little. "Is it still just the scarves and the keys?"

Kurt peers around the seatback. "No, you seem to have opened the glove compartment. The owner's manual is doing a little dance."

"Ugh," Blaine groans, tipping forward until his face is hidden against Kurt's shoulder.

"It's _okay,_ " Kurt insists. He lifts a hand to Blaine's back and strokes along Blaine's spine. "I like it. But it is probably good that we had that conversation before this one."

Blaine chuckles into Kurt's coat collar. "It probably is."

-x-

Cold air blows out the vent as the central air conditioning kicks on again. It's a sticky August afternoon outside, but inside the house it's comfortably cool and dry. Kurt's feeling a certain sense of unreality as he sets tea lights strategically around his room, their globes keeping them from flickering in the moving air.

His dad and Carole have taken Finn to Columbus for the weekend so he can tour the OSU campus; Finn's very unofficially considering The Ohio State University for school, and Kurt's been sworn to secrecy on that topic. Which is perfect.

Because here Kurt is, the house to himself, adhering to his promises to keep quiet about Finn's plans and not to hold a party. His dad had failed to specify whether Blaine could come over, and Kurt had carefully not asked. He's convinced himself that the oversight is deliberate on his dad's part, and that they'll never talk about it.

He lights the little candles on the vanity last and turns out the overhead light. Between the flickering candles and the soft glow of the lamp on the shelf, the room is charmingly half-lit.

 _It looks very romantic,_ Blaine says into Kurt's head.

"Shush! Out, you, no peeking," Kurt says aloud. He's still learning to frame thoughts deliberately so Blaine can read them; they've only started trying this in the last month or so. "Unless you're here?"

 _I am,_ he answers, and Kurt has a clear mental image of Blaine standing outside the front door.

Kurt smiles. "I'm on my way!" He makes himself walk calmly down the stairs and open the door normally, like they do this every day. "You know, you could unlock the door yourself," Kurt points out to Blaine as he steps inside.

Blaine frowns. "That would be rude to your family."

"Ah, but my family's not here this weekend. What if I had been in the shower? Would you really have waited outside?" Kurt lifts an eyebrow.

"If I'd sensed you in the shower, I would have gotten back in my car to wait discreetly," Blaine answers. Beside him, a stack of mail rises off the side table.

Kurt looks over Blaine's shoulder. "Because of that?"

Blaine turns. "Yes," he sighs, lowering the mail carefully back down and nudging the letters into a neat stack. "You know, my control is so much better than it used to be, except where you're concerned."

"I like it," Kurt whispers. "Now come upstairs."

"Kurt," Blaine breathes when he walks into Kurt's room. "It looks even better in person."

Kurt preens. "Thank you. I just thought that if we really do go all the way – not that we have to! – we should have an appropriate setting."

Grabbing Kurt's shoulders, Blaine kisses him deeply. _I want to. God, I want to. I want you inside me, Kurt._

Kurt does not want to stop kissing Blaine to answer. But he doesn't have to, does he. _Blaine. Love you so much,_ he thinks intently.

 _You don't have to think quite so hard, sweetheart,_ Blaine replies.

They have to part to undress, Kurt unbuttoning their shirts and Blaine, frowning in concentration, lifting them off and away. Kurt doesn't say anything when they crumple in an untidy pile. He only shucks his jeans, letting out a breath of relief when his erection is free, and tosses the rest of his clothes to the floor. He looks up to see Blaine standing before him, naked and beautiful. "Can you tell what I'm thinking now?" Kurt asks quietly.

Blaine flushes. "Yes."

All summer they've been stealing moments and exploring each other in ways they couldn't during the winter, the cold backseat of a car as much of a mood killer as the danger of their fogged windows drawing the wrong kind of attention. Until spring, they most they'd done was an exchange of fumbling hand jobs with their pants still on. This summer, though, has allowed them the opportunity for so much more, with its warm evenings and no homework.

Location has been their major limitation. They haven't dared take advantage of Blaine's room at Dalton; telepathic faculty don't need to open doors to chaperone students, and they're still both underage. But there's much they can do parked in the far corner of the movie theater's lot during the last movie, or hurriedly in a guest room during a New Directions party. July will forever stand out in Kurt's mind as the Month of the Blowjob.

"I love getting to see all of you," Kurt says. "I've wanted to see you so much. Can I ... ?" He doesn't need to finish the question. Blaine's read the image of what Kurt wants.

Blaine sits on the edge of the bed, a silent assent, and Kurt presses gently on his shoulders to lay him back.

"Ready?" he asks, leaning over Blaine.

Blaine nods. He draws his knees up, exposing himself. It makes Kurt's breath catch.

Kurt keeps his lube in the first drawer of his bedside table; he's not worried about someone seeing that. The condoms he's hidden under his socks in the dresser – it's clichéd, he's sure, but there haven't been any awkward conversations in the two weeks he's had them there. He pulls out the lube now and squirts some on to his fingers. It's probably too much, but better too much than too little. He kneels on the floor, the better to see what he's doing.

They haven't been able to do much exploration here, although Blaine fingered Kurt once during a particularly excellent blowjob. Kurt thinks about what he's read and puts one finger to Blaine's hole, stroking over it. "Tell me what feels good, okay?"

Blaine murmurs in agreement. He's relaxing slowly under Kurt's touch, and his cock, which had softened, is stiffening again.

Kurt presses his finger in. He blows out a breath, amazed by how hot Blaine feels inside. Blaine shivers when the air rushes over him. "Sorry, didn't mean to do that," Kurt says. He moves his finger side-to-side, and then just a little deeper. "How's that?" he asks, uncertain.

"God, Kurt, it's— Can I?" Blaine gasps.

"Yes." Kurt stills, waiting. A wave of sensation washes over him, arousal and nerves to match his own and the feeling of tantalizing pressure. "Oh," he sighs. He pulls his hand away from Blaine and adds more lube, working his thumb over his fingers until they're all slick and warm. _Ready for more?_ he thinks.

 _Please,_ please, _do it._ Blaine makes a keening sound when Kurt lays his fingers over Blaine's hole again.

Kurt slides two fingers in, slow and patient. "I don't want to hurt you." Blaine looks so vulnerable, open to Kurt like this. It makes him almost too nervous to go on.

"Not," Blaine says aloud. He must be projecting again, because Kurt can feel a phantom presence in his own ass. In fact, it feels like he's on the edge of something really good. He pushes his fingers deeper and crooks them, and when he rubs the pads of his fingers over Blaine's prostate they both moan loudly.

"You're going to have to stop projecting everything you feel, honey, or I'm going to come right now," Kurt scolds affectionately.

"Nnngg." Blaine pulls back from Kurt's mind. Now there's only a general sense of pleasure, one that ebbs and flows lightly when Kurt moves his fingers.

It's like a dream. Kurt loses all track of time, stretching Blaine slowly and watching his cock jump when Kurt's fingers press his prostate again and again. Blaine's not projecting much sensation, but his emotions are slipping out. He feels cherished, Kurt's glad to know. For his part, Kurt's mesmerized by the sounds he can elicit from Blaine.

A feeling of impatience sweeps over Kurt. _Now. Now,_ Blaine says in Kurt's mind.

"Okay, okay!" Kurt laughs. He pulls his hand free and considers it. "Um, could you get the condoms?" He concentrates on their location. Across the room, his dresser drawer slides open and the box of condoms levitates out of it. It wobbles as it comes to a landing on the floor in front of Kurt. Kurt had been considering asking Blaine to put the condom on him, but his control's obviously suffering somewhat, so Kurt pulls the towel off his vanity chair and wipes his hand clean with that.

He gets the first condom on inside out in the dim lighting and only notices because it won't unroll properly. Sighing, Kurt opens a second and examines it carefully before rolling it on. A wash of warm amusement passes through his mind. "Yes, well, you try it next time. It's not as easy as it looks."

"Next time. I like that idea," Blaine says. He pushes himself backwards on the bed until there's room for both of them. Kurt climbs up and kneels between Blaine's legs.

Squeezing more lube out over his erection, Kurt slicks himself thoroughly. Some of the lube drips on to the bed and Kurt sighs. "Laundry later."

"Focus, Kurt," Blaine urges. He's giving Kurt a mental nudge, wordless anticipation.

Kurt leans forward over Blaine, the tip of his cock brushing Blaine's hole. "Focused enough for you?"

"God, yes." Blaine draws his legs up further. "Come on, please." _Please, Kurt, I want this._

 _I want this too,_ Kurt thinks, and presses carefully in. It's almost impossible to move as slowly as he'd planned to; Blaine feels so good, tight and somehow hotter than body temperature should be. Still, he makes himself hold back and it feels like minutes until Blaine's body relaxes and Kurt is completely inside.

 _Move,_ Blaine urges him, projecting sensation again. Kurt can't do anything for long moments, overwhelmed by the combined feelings of filling and being filled. Of wholeness and closeness.

Finally he does move, sliding almost out of Blaine and then back in, letting Blaine's projections guide him. Kurt's just able to bend his head down and kiss Blaine, breathless touches of their lips between gasps.

Blaine moans. _I need your hand._

"I don't know if I'm that coordinated," Kurt says. "And I don't think I'm going to last long, anyway." As he says that, there's a new tightness at the base of his cock, like the way he squeezes there to hold off his orgasm when he's masturbating. "Someone's been eavesdropping on me," he says teasingly.

 _Just trying to help,_ Blaine thinks as he surges up to kiss Kurt.

Kurt sends the idea of Blaine supporting Kurt's body with his mind, freeing both Kurt's hands, and Blaine sends back uncertainty. "Something to work up to," Kurt says. For now, he balances on one hand and gets the other between them to work over Blaine's cock.

Blaine's attention diverted, it doesn't take long for either of them to come. Kurt throws his head back as he does and sees that half his books are floating just above their shelves. They drop back into place with a series of thumps as Blaine whimpers under Kurt. _Too much._ The sensations Kurt's been feeling are abruptly gone.

Pulling out carefully, Kurt lifts himself off Blaine. Both their stomachs are smeared with Blaine's come, Kurt having pressed them together and probably landed on Blaine's cock when he came.

 _Yes,_ Blaine says faintly.

"Sorry," Kurt whispers. He pulls the condom off and ties it, reaches for the towel he left on the floor and cleans them both cursorily. He's careful with Blaine, moving delicately over his still-sensitive cock and hole. There's a flicker of the cherished feeling from earlier when Blaine notices Kurt's care. All Kurt wants is to lie down. Post-orgasm lassitude is settling in, compounded by the waves of sleepy satisfaction he's getting from Blaine.

Clean up finished, Kurt looks quickly around the room, half-expecting to see that their clothes are tangoing, or that his furniture is all shifted two feet to the left. Instead he sees all the tea lights, still in their glass holders, hovering in the air and moving, slowly, in intricate circles at varying heights. "Blaine, look."

Blaine sits up. "What?" he says, projecting confusion and then surprise when he looks up.

Kurt laughs, a delighted peal of sound. He can feel that Blaine's grinning behind him, the sensation stretching his own lips into a smile. Turning to face him, Kurt says, "Look what you did. It's beautiful."

Blaine pulls Kurt back against him and tucks his face against Kurt's neck. _I love you._

"Mmm," Kurt hums. _I love you, too._ "What was that grin for? Did you surprise yourself with the candles?"

"No," Blaine says. He hooks his chin over Kurt's shoulder. "It's just— When you laugh. It sounds like chimes in my head."

Kurt raises his eyebrows, knowing Blaine doesn't need to see his face to know he's curious. Suddenly he's hearing his own laugh in his mind, purer and clearer than the laugh that comes from his throat. The sound is exquisite, and with it comes an overtone of wonder.

"I can't believe this, sometimes," Kurt says. "How on earth did I get lucky enough to find you? To be loved by you?"

"I think I'm the lucky one," Blaine says. He projects the memory of his own shaking hands, that day in the park when he'd told Kurt his secrets.

 _I guess we both are,_ Kurt thinks.

Blaine's answer comes in gratitude and love so intense Kurt feels tears slipping from his eyes.

He tilts his head back and kisses Blaine's cheek, awkward and heartfelt. He knows Blaine will read the promise in it.

"Me too," Blaine says aloud, sounding overwhelmed. The candles come gently to rest on the desk and the vanity, tiny _clinks_ when the glass touches down. Blaine holds out a hand and makes a snuffing gesture. When the flames go out, he whispers, "I wasn't sure I could do that."

"Very nice. You can practice more later," Kurt says. "But first let's sleep, okay?"

They lie down and curl together, Blaine still behind Kurt. It's impossible to say how much of the love Kurt's feeling is from outside and how much is from within, but it doesn't matter. It's the same love.


End file.
